Saving you (means saving myself, too)
by roseygoldblush
Summary: (1980's University aesthetic AU!) Inuyasha is struggling with his family's pressure on him to attend college and live a normal, conformative lifestyle, instead of chasing his own dreams. Although he's mostly accepted he'll just have to deal with it in order to move on, will the confident, spontaneous nature of Kagome inspire him to live a life for himself instead of others, too?


_(Inuyasha belongs to the amazing Rumiko Takahashi, not me) x_

* * *

Ah, the girl I want. There she goes, walking down the hall to the 2:00PM class I purposely arrive early for, just to catch the most delicious sight of my life. If only for fifteen seconds, I know happiness that isn't feigned.

I see in her countenance she's concerned over being late. Those lovely, milky thighs are full of power, and I would _kill_ for the intent to be on my behalf. Long raven waves tumble over her small rounded shoulders, but my eyes wander back to the shortness of that skirt she wears, how it flounces teasingly without her being so much as aware. Damn, you would think she _knows_ how sexually murderous those outfits are, but the fun is being able to tell that she likely doesn't.

I keep my hands in my pockets. I…almost have to force myself to, feeling scared if I didn't, I'd be in the biggest rush to get them all over that rockin' body. Hey...if you wanna talk about being a creep, how about I arrange a nice _meeting_ between you and my buddy Miroku. Unlike _his_ sorry ass, I'd never molested a chick. Ok, maybe molested is a strong word, but…keh. Where's the fun in not working for it?

Yet, I won't deny the daydreams…the ones that follow as I'm in the midst of following after her figure to the lecture hall we share, kicking myself on the inside endlessly for the millionth time that I didn't have the guts to talk to her. _So much for this whole tough-guy reputation thing._ _Not having the balls to speak to some little girl_. But the spring semester would be ending soon, so I didn't have many more chances to stealthily watch her pass by me in the hallway of this building three times a week.

Her perfume lingers heavily in the doorway. White tea. Jasmine, peaches. Heavy, sensual blush, and rosy woods. I already am dizzy from it as I try and find a seat far enough to be inconspicuous – but close enough to feed on the eye candy for the duration of the period.

 _Kagome Higurashi. I will make you mine, I fucking swear it!_

I shout this at myself inside my head, while I cross one leg over my thigh, jittering in frustration, like a fool. All over the slight outline of her bra straps through that thin and tight pink t-shirt. Ah…if there's a God, I hope he can put me out of my misery. Right about now would be good. I'm not tryna pitch a tent in class. At nearly 22 years, I'm too old for that shit.

"The view is as lovely as ever," I hear a dude's voice say sympathetically, and I recognize it's Miroku before I even have to look.

"Pff, whatever," I try and act like I don't care. Hah. Good luck. He glances at me with raised eyebrows, anticipating any number of excuses, but I fight the urge and just stare at the young woman's slender back and all its details, suffocating, wondering if the temperature in here had suddenly shot up ten degrees…or if that was just me. I feel a blood vessel practically burst at the jealous thought other dudes in here paid attention to her, like I did. _If I couldn't put it past Miroku, I can't put it past any other man!_

The professor walks in. "Good afternoon," he says, but most of the class ignores him. I watch Kagome pull out her notebook, the one with cats all over the front of it. She crosses those heavenly legs; I watch her toes curl under the straps of her sandals. _Breathe in deeeeep, dude. You've survived her onslaughts so far. Now's no different._

"Today we'll be continuing our discussion on social inequality," The professor sighs after checking his watch, adjusting the laminate sheets over the projector. "Starting with some statistics."

I mentally check out for the rest of class. Being here on a full scholarship didn't really motivate me to work hard, or even feel obligated, unlike Little-Miss-Perfect I admired up front, adjusting her glasses and hunching her shoulders together intently with the furious note-taking.

 _Social inequality…huh?_ I think, though, unhappy with how close that hits to home.

"Considering the demographics…it's clear we see lessening, but still-present marginalization between demons in this world, and humans…"

I try to tune it out. What was the point of my signing up for a class like this, again? Socioeconomics. Pff, it's all fucking bullshit. What about inequality did I _not_ know already as a half-demon; a category the professor didn't even include. Of course.

"…So we've discussed that all semester, but now we'll get into the framework regarding institutionalized repression…"

 _Yet again, with the big words…_ I let my eyes wander to Miroku's notebook, where he's sketching outlines of naked women like the pervert he is. I can't help but stare, distracted, no longer concerned with my social standing, concerned now with how freakishly _detailed_ he draws.

Until there's suddenly a loud bang on one of the tables, and everyone in the lecture hall jumps out of their daze.

"How can we talk about these issues and not actually _address_ them?!" A girl shrieks; her whole figure is trembling, those small hands are tightened into fists. _Ah, that stance, that's…!_ "There are probably people in this room affected by our society's ridiculous standards, but we're not even including them, are we?! Doesn't that go against the whole POINT?!"

 _That's…Kagome…?!_

"Of course the leader of our campus's Feminazi-whatever Organization would have something to say," Some dude near her scoffs, then yawns. "Hey, prof, I'm payin' for this class, can you go on?"

"Oh, well I pardon your disinterest," She remains surprisingly calm, in spite of all this drama she started. She flips that gorgeous hair over one shoulder, smirking, and I feel the air get knocked out of my lungs. "What man trying so _desperately_ to hide his lack of a sex life would understand anything to do with women, or your oppression thereof? Good luck ever becoming the leader of a student organization, like me, with _that_ attitude."

A collective _ooh_ spreads along with a few hoots and shouts, and the professor silences everyone, harrumphing and clearing his throat in distress over the political uprising in his classroom. I'm still reeling from her initial outburst, which is continuously amazing me each second after its passing, and somehow not blowing everyone else's minds. She looks pleased with herself and sits down, apologizing for her explosion, blaming it on being too passionate for her own good; in a cutesy giggle totally unlike how she sounded just seconds ago.

The victim of her vicious assault is silenced to the point I think he might be dead.

Speaking of dying, that's about accurate for my state, too. This woman…this woman that I'd only been lusting for in terms of looks, just tried to defend me, and any other possible hybrids in this room, without even knowing it. She…gave them a voice. _She gave me a voice!_

I'm no longer just horny for this chick – I'm no longer impressed _only_ by those strong legs, now that I know just how powerful that mouth was in comparison.

 _Damn…I think…I think I might have fucking fallen in LOVE with her!_

The next hour and a half passes by torturously. Kagome hadn't had any more eruptions during class, and I wrack my brain endlessly over why she would have done that in the first place.

She must be dating someone who's half-demon, or even worse, a pureblooded one, I think, biting my lower lip hard. Why else would she be so concerned, as just a human girl?! I was so fucking STUPID to think someone wouldn't have staked a claim on her…by now.

"Chill, will you?" Miroku hisses. "You're making my blood pressure rise just by sitting next to you."

"Bite me," I mutter back, feeling like my body has been flung into purgatory the moment class ends. I slam my backpack over my shoulder and practically chase Kagome out of the classroom. Why am I doing this?! Why couldn't I just be like the other students here and just ignore it?

 _It's too personal for that,_ I insist to myself, too caught up in my inner monologue to realize I'd grabbed her shoulder and she'd turned around in a shock, staring at me, waiting for an explanation.

"What makes you think it matters to _you?!"_ I gasp out, sounding like the hugest asshole in the world. "You're just a human!"

Her brows close together. "Oh? So you _want_ everyone to keep thinking the same old prejudiced things?" She starts to look scarily angry, and I flinch, regretting even driving to campus today at this point, but then her expression suddenly softens, and I feel my jaw drop as she tenderly reaches for one of my ears.

Her fingertips tracing just on the rim of my ear lights me on fire. My face gets hot and I instinctively start to smack her hand away, but before I can, she's withdrawn it, and…she looks…so sad?

She holds that hand she'd reached out to me close to her heart, looking strongly afflicted. My enraged confusion feels like it melts as those sad eyes seem to bear into depths of my soul I didn't even know existed. How stupid does that sound? But that's how it felt. Light was reaching where it'd never shone.

"N-nevermind," She suddenly huffs, looking bothered again, and adjusts her bag, rushing away from me. I lean my back onto the wall, weak in the knees. What the _fuck_ was that?!

My first time talking to her, and nothing, and _everything_ seemed to have happened.


End file.
